Bathroom Break
by ThatGirlIsabel
Summary: When you gotta go, you gotta go.


I'm apologizing for this now, it stemmed from a "what if" post-apocalyptic scenario discussion with my husband and I just kind of went my own weird way with it. Nobody tends to give much thought to situations like this and playing the game with all its realism made me go there so to speak, because what if, WHAT IF?

* * *

Ellie couldn't remember ever having to pee as badly as she had to right now, and everything around her was making it worse. The slow, steady drip of icicles melting off the bare trees along the side of the road, the half-frozen puddles on the pavement, the faint slosh of canned weenies and bottled water from inside their backpacks, not to mention the chill in the air itself- all of it made her feel like her bladder was gonna explode. When she said as much to Joel, he dryly suggested that if that happened she should try and keep the splashing to a minimum so the noise wouldn't attract any infected, which made her laugh and her stomach hurt even more.

But he didn't want to stop out here in the middle of the street no matter how isolated it appeared to be, and there was a trailer park just up ahead, so she held it and muttered her complaints even though she knew he was right. Peeing indoors was always better than peeing outside if you could help it. Anyway it wasn't like she could write her name in the snow or anything cool like that, all she could do was make a big puddle and try to aim away from her ankles. _Boys have all the fun_.

As always they gave the place a quick scouting to make sure it was safe. It took longer than she liked because it had been awhile since the last snow and there was no fresh powder to reveal recent prints, only scattered patches, puddles and iced-over drifts. Ellie groaned and threatened to piss herself right there next to the upside-down car they were crouched behind, but Joel called her bluff, allowing that they could probably find her a fresh pair of pants in one of these trailers. Only after he was satisfied that they were alone did he nod at the nearest mobile home and grunt, "We'll check that one out first. Quietly, now."

The screen door had long since been torn off its spring and the lock broken on the door behind that; the knob rolled freely without the click of a latch when Joel tried it. Inside was filth and old destruction like all the other abandoned places in the world, though it didn't smell as moldy as some. It was a single-wide, the door opening up to a narrow hallway that led straight down the length of the trailer to the living space and bedrooms beyond, but right now the only room she cared about was the very first one off the hall. She tried not to listen to the wet squishing sounds her shoes made as she tracked snowmelt in, mincing her way towards the toilet. This door was gone entirely, taken off the hinge and probably burned for firewood by the people who used to live here (or by whoever had broken the lock, but she didn't like to think about that). Joel's shadow lingered just outside the open doorway.

She had protested peeing as he stood nearby exactly once, back in Boston, only to have him impatiently huff back over his shoulder, "I ain't looking at you no more than I expect you're gonna look at me when it's my turn, but you need someone to watch your back while you're doing that. We're at our most vulnerable when we got our pants down." She could not argue with his logic, and from then on it had been an unspoken understanding that staying alive was more important than having total privacy.

This bathroom looked like all the rest, dirty and smelly and disgusting. Joel had said that water and power were among the first things lost when the infection took over, and people were creatures of habit. Ellie understood that much; finding a tree or digging a hole in the woods was fine, but in civilization you wanted to feel human and human people used a toilet. In some places it was so bad that the bowls were overflowing, sometimes even the bathtub, and if the mess was recent and the weather warm enough it would be crawling with flies, maggots and other nasties. It was even worse when there was a body. Half the time it looked like they had been killed while handling their business, which was good for getting a few I Told You So's out of Joel, and it was almost kinda funny to see a startled-looking skeleton with their pants all bunched up around their ankle bones no matter how bad she felt for them. The other half were suicides, which there was nothing funny about. In that case all they could do was maybe harvest some ammo, if there was any left.

But it was too cold out for creepy crawlies and there were no dead people here to make her depressed and uncomfortable, just the rotten smell like always. At least there was only mildew in the bathtub, nothing too gross. The toilet lid was up. Ellie danced from one foot to the other and back as she skinned down her jeans, turned halfway around and stopped suddenly.

The bowl was full of stinky old foulness. And on the very top of a decomposing pile of crap and its surrounding moat of rank black ooze…

It was fresh, still steaming in the late winter air.

Infected didn't use the toilet, but human hunters did. Ellie felt like her pee had frozen into a big ball of ice in the pit of her stomach; a second ago she'd been ready to pop but now she didn't think she could go if she tried. She shivered. _There's someone here._

"Joel." She was afraid to do more than whisper. In her own ears she sounded loud as a freaking hurricane, her heart pounding like thunder. "_Joel_." She held her breath, waiting for an answer, drawing her switchblade when she got none. _What the fuck, where'd he go? _

She zipped herself back up and tried to be perfectly silent as she crossed to where the bathroom door had been, wincing at every muffled squish and squelch of her shoes. In the doorway Ellie breathed his name so soft she could barely hear it herself, and felt the relief wash over her like a warm rain as she peeked around the corner and there he was.

Joel had his back to her, a few steps beyond the bathroom. When her wet shoes betrayed her presence he motioned for her to stop, and then she saw how tense he was, his free hand hovering stiffly near the revolver in his back pocket. He faced the trailer's living room, where a fat man sat facing him.

To be fair she couldn't really call him fat but he was a big dude, bigger even than Bill, and he'd had a whole town of food all to himself. This guy must have had access to an entire factory judging by all the cans he had stockpiled in one corner plus the empty ones that littered the floor. He sat on a sagging couch, hunched over a women's clothing catalogue with a can of pork 'n beans open in one hand, the other frozen halfway to a shotgun on the floor in front of him. The handle of a fork or maybe a spoon poked out of his mouth, brown bean juice glistening on his lips. He looked as frightened as she felt.

Ellie didn't think he had anyone to watch his back when he had to sleep or shit or search for supplies. She felt sorry for him, but only a little bit. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her knife.

Joel was the first to speak after a long, uneasy moment of quiet. "Thought the place was deserted," he said carefully, breath hissing through his nose. "We'll just be on our way, ain't looking for a fight."

Big beads of sweat stood out on the broad pale forehead. He sucked on his spoon, eyes darting nervously between the both of them.

She was watching the thick, stubby fingers twitching near that shotgun, and the door just in case he had a partner sneaking in behind them after all, and finally Joel so she would be ready for action when he was. But he must have seen something she hadn't, a nod or slump of the shoulder or some other sign of peace, because he gently said her name and began to back towards the door. He still covered his gun as the big guy covered his own, only somehow it seemed more passive than before.

Ellie followed his lead. They were on their way out the way they had come in, but she couldn't go yet, not when she still had to _go_.

"Hey, what the hell are you— we are leaving," she heard Joel assure the not-exactly-fat man from the bathroom doorway as she sighed in relief. "Girl's just gotta use your facilities first, if you don't mind."


End file.
